


Shirt Lifter

by aki_hoshi



Category: Drake & Josh
Genre: Bromance, Clothing Kink, Clothing Porn, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aki_hoshi/pseuds/aki_hoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drake is wearing Josh's shirts. Everyone thinks this is weird except Drake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shirt Lifter

**Author's Note:**

> Drake Parker/Josh Nichols | NC-17 | 9700 words | 05 March, 2009
> 
>   
> 
> 
> **Betas:** This fic would not be possible without the unending support and love of my D &J Twinsie, [abusing_sarcasm](http://abusing-sarcasm.livejournal.com/). I love you more than I could ever possibly express in words. Maybe in hot tongue kisses and gropage, though. :D  
>  **Warnings:** None. Well, the boys are maybe 17 going on 18...senior year of high school.  
>  **Spoilers:** After MCD &J.  
>  **Summary:** Drake is wearing Josh's shirts. Everyone thinks this is weird except Drake.
> 
>  **Notes:**  
>  So...this is my first D&J fic ever. Sorry for those of you who don't know what Drake & Josh is! Inspired by a lovely melding of the minds with [lilysaid](http://lilysaid.livejournal.com/), who is the most horrible person ever. But only because she can't stop saying things that all make us want to write fic. *headdesk* Love you, Lils! *squish* And Cam, bb, this one's for you.  
> 

*******

  


Josh rifled through his wardrobe for a third time. He knew two of them were still in the hamper, and his mom had just started the laundry, but he was going to be late for work if he didn't find his last blue button-down work-shirt.

"Drake!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Drake! DRAKE!"

"Drake's not here!" his mom replied from down the hall.

"Hey mom!" Josh called.

"Yes, dear?" Audrey said as she entered her son's room.

"Have you seen my blue work-shirt?"

"The ones in the laundry?"

Josh searched under his bed. "No...I have one more, and I can't find it. I'm going to be late if I don't find it soon."

"I'm sorry. Do you have a plain white one you can wear instead?"

"Yeah...but Helen's just going to yell at me for not being in uniform."

Audrey patted Josh's arm. "You can tell her it's my fault for not doing your laundry in time."

Josh smiled guiltily. "Thanks, mom," he said as he slipped on a white button-down over his white undershirt.

"No problem, sweetie. Have a good day at work!"

"I will." Josh looked down at his non-regulation white shirt. "Helen is going to _kill_ me."  


***

"JOSH!"

Josh started, and then began scrubbing the counter vigorously. "Yes, Helen?"

"What is that you're wearing?"

"Er...my uniform...?" Josh said hopefully, his eyes shifting left and right.

Helen's voice started off low and dangerous but by the end was loud and ringing off the rafters. "Josh Nichols, I know a Premiere uniform when I see one, and what you got on your back ain't a Premiere uniform!"

Josh twirled around to face her. "I'm so sorry Helen! I couldn't find my last blue shirt! All the other ones were in the laundry and-"

"I don't _care_ about your dirty underwear _issues_ , Josh! Now go find a proper uniform shirt or so help me, I will put you on the nastiest work I can find!"

"But-"

"I said GO!"

"Uh, alright!" Josh ran out of the theatre and into the mall, fearing for his life.

"Shirts, shirts, shirts, shirts, shirts..." he mumbled as he ran around the mall, looking for a store that would sell a plain, light blue button-down shirt. As he sprinted past the food court, something, or rather, _someone_ caught his eye and he stumbled to a stop.

"Drake?"

Drake looked up from the girl he was kissing over a tray of fries. "Oh, hey, Josh. What's up?"

"Are you... Are you _wearing_ my blue shirt?"

Drake looked down to the shirt ensemble he wore. "I dunno. It does look blue, but I just assumed it was mine. It was in the clean pile."

"You just _assumed_? Drake, that's my only clean work shirt! I need it. Take it off."

"What? I can't take it off! I'm wearing it!"

Josh grabbed Drake by the arm and hauled him to his feet. "Drake, I need that shirt, or Helen is going to _kill me_."

"Who even says it's yours?"

"Because it's obviously too big on you! Look, it's bunching up under your t-shirt!" Josh said, pulling at the hem.

"Yo, man, let go! Go get your own shirt!"

"This _is_ my shirt!"

"Well, I don't _want_ to take it off!"

Josh started dragging Drake to the mall restroom. "You've got a shirt on top of it; just wear that one!"

"Josh! Josh, hey, let go, man!"

"Look, you can wear my white one in exchange if that makes you feel better."

"It doesn't. Look, yours is all sweaty!"

"Drake, will you _please_ just help me out here? I don't need Helen to yell at me any more than she already does."

"Fine," Drake said after a moment's pause. "But I'm not wearing your sweaty shirt."

"That's fine, whatever. I'll take it back with me."

When Drake lifted off his t-shirt, the little strip of flesh dusted with Drake's happy trail peeked out beneath Josh's shirt, catching Josh's attention for a moment, as if that spot were particularly interesting. But Josh had seen Drake topless plenty of times...so what did it matter if a little peek of his tummy was showing as Josh's shirt rode up?

Though Drake _did_ try to tempt Josh by showing him his stomach a few times in the past...maybe Josh had a tummy thing he didn't know about?

Or maybe it was just the thought of someone else wearing his clothes. His mind immediately brought up images of what Mindy might look like, hair slightly mussed, wearing a shirt that was too big on her and nothing else underneath...just like Drake...

"Josh...Josh!"

"Eh, what?" Josh said, startled out of his reverie.

"Take your shirt, man. Aren't you in some kind of a hurry?"

"Oh! Yes, I need to get back to work. Thanks, Drake!"

Drake slipped his t-shirt back over his head. "Yeah, yeah, don't mention it. Let's just hope my date hasn't left because of you."

Josh glanced up from buttoning his buttons, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Drake pouted with his wide-eyed, 'you know you want to give me what I want' smile, reserved only for Josh. "Will you make me Fudgie Boos when you get home?"

Josh rolled his eyes. "Will you promise not to eat them before they're done?"

Drake beamed. "I promise."

"Alright then. I promise to make you Fudgie Boos when I get home tonight."

"Awesome. Hey, I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Yeah. See ya."

Josh watched his brother's broad back as Drake left the bathroom before looking at his reflection in the mirror. Sighing, he slipped on his vest and grabbed his sweaty, white shirt, leaving the bathroom and sprinting back up to the Premiere as fast as he could.

He tried not to notice, but for the rest of the day, he swore his shirt smelled like his brother.  


***

When Drake got back to the food court, his date, Monique (or was it Monica? Something with an 'M' in it), was thankfully still sitting at their table, but had her arms crossed and looked a bit upset.

"Hey, baby, I'm sorry," Drake said as he sat back down, intent on kissing the upset away.

"Who _was_ that guy?"

"Oh, that was my brother, Josh."

"Your _brother_? He looked like a lunatic. He was all sweaty and gross."

Drake frowned and looked to the side. He rubbed his bare arms, feeling cold in the absence of Josh's shirt. "Josh isn't a lunatic or whatever you said. He was just in a hurry. And he's not gross. A complete dork, maybe..."

"Yeah, well, he didn't have to grab you like that and make you take off your shirt!"

Drake shrugged. "It was his shirt anyway. It must have just accidentally gotten into my clean laundry. It's not a big deal. I accidentally wear his shirts all the time. Now let's get back to..." and he leaned in to match lips with the glossy peach-flavored ones in front of him.

But Monique did not. "You wear each other's _clothes_? Isn't that a bit...weird?"

"What? No, no, Josh can't fit into my clothes. I just sometimes get his shirts in my laundry and don't realize it until I'm wearing it is all."

"Drake, that's just really weird."

"Look, Monique, can we just forget about my brother and get back to more interesting things?" he said suggestively, leaning back in again.

Monique stood up abruptly, snatching up her handbag. "My name is _Angelique_ ," she sneered, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and stalking away.

Drake sat back, blinking. _What the hell just happened?_  


***

Drake was waiting, pacing in the foyer, when Josh got home.

"Josh! Josh, I'm so glad you're home." Drake grabbed Josh's arm before he was even in the door and steered him into the kitchen. "Look! I set out all the things you'll need to make my Fudgie Boos!"

Josh broke out in a grin. "Drake, this is awesome. But you know that sesame seeds don't go in brownies, right?" Josh said as he weighed the small bag of seeds in his hand.

Drake shrugged. "Whatever. You'll make them right now, right? I think I've been waiting pretty patiently for you to get off work and make my Fudgie Boos."

"What are 'Fudgie Boos'?" said a voice from behind Drake.

Drake jumped. "Ugh! What are _you_ doing here?" he spat, eyeing the girl behind him.

Mindy smiled. "I came over to do some homework with Josh."

"Well, you can't have my Fudgie Boos!" Drake exclaimed, moving between Mindy and the counter full of ingredients, most of which were wrong. "I had a really bad day, and no one gets Josh's Fudgie Boos but me!"

"Well, maybe I don't want your Fudgie Boos!" Mindy retorted.

"I'll make enough for everyone," said Josh. "Drake, you can have your own batch."

"Fine. But _I_ get them _first_. I need my Fudgie Boos. I had a really horrible day, okay?"

Josh smiled secretly as he set his stuff down on a stool and slipped off his Premiere vest. "Why was your day so bad?"

"Well, first you had to go and steal my shirt, right off my back," Drake started.

"It was _my_ shirt to begin with," Josh reminded him as he rolled up his sleeves and got to work on his famous Fudgie Boos.

"Whatever. And then, that girl I was kissing-"

"Don't you remember her name?" Mindy cut in, sitting down at the table.

Drake glared. "Apparently I didn't, because she stormed off after I called her 'Monique', though I could have _sworn_ that that was her name, but _oh no_ , it was 'Angelique' instead," he said, waving his hands around.

"Well, Drake, girls do tend to get offended if you can't remember their names, especially after you've been kissing them all day," Josh said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Yeah, well she was getting on my nerves anyway. She wouldn't let go of the fact that I accidentally wear your shirts sometimes. Oh, and _then_ , they were out of corndogs at the Corndog Emporium! How could a corndog emporium be out of corndogs?"

"Wait, you're wearing Josh's clothes?" Mindy said, standing, her hands on her hips.

"Not that it's any of your business, Creature, but yeah, occasionally, Josh's shirts get mixed up with mine. It's not a big deal."

"Josh, did you know Drake's been wearing your shirts?"

Josh looked up from cracking an egg. "Uh...no? Not really. I mean, this is the only time I know of." Josh shot a weird look at Drake.

"It's not a big deal," Drake reiterated for what felt like the millionth time that day. "We pretty much wear the same size, so I figure, if it looks good, why not wear it?"

"Drake, I can't fit into _your_ clothes, but you're wearing _mine_ , which I _need to wear_ every day?"

"Why is everyone getting so bent out of shape about this?" Drake just couldn't understand why it was a problem. Some of Josh's shirts went with his. It's not like he was wearing Josh's underwear. He said as much out loud.

"The _problem_ is that you shouldn't be wearing his clothes! You're not his girlfriend!" Mindy said, advancing on Drake, obviously upset.

"Well, why don't we ask Josh if he has a problem with me wearing his clothes!" Drake shot back.

"Of _course_ he has a problem with it! They're not your clothes!"

"Whoa, look, you...you girl-shaped thing, what's your problem? Wait, don't answer that. You're always mean to me for no good reason."

"Oh, I'll give you a reason!" Mindy said, looking like she was about to attack.

"Oooookay!" Josh interjected, abandoning his Fudgie Boo mix and the relative safety of the counter to get between his brother and his very angry-looking girlfriend. "How about we stop talking about this? It's not a big deal, really. Just...drop it, okay, you guys?"

"Josh, how is this not a big deal?" Mindy said. "The only person who should be wearing your clothes is you! And me, on occasion." Mindy blushed and crossed her arms over her chest, looking meek.

"Ew," Drake said. "I _do not_ need to think of you in Josh's clothes, okay?"

"Yeah, well I don't want to think about _you_ in Josh's clothes!" said Mindy. "It's not right. You guys should have your own, separate clothes. Like you have your own, separate beds."

"But we share a bedroom. Things _are_ likely to get mixed up every once and a while," Josh said diplomatically.

"Josh, I can't believe you're taking his side!"

"I'm not! Mindy, this really isn't something to fight about. Drake, just...maybe you should stop wearing my clothes, okay?"

Drake felt like he'd been slapped. "Yeah, whatever, Josh," he said blankly. "I'll just be upstairs. In _our_ room," he bit out. Then he turned on his heel and stormed across the hall towards their room. Instead of going upstairs, though, he went around the corner and spied on his brother and The Creature from behind the safety of the wall.

Josh sighed. "Mindy...maybe we could study later or something. I think I'd just like to make these brownies and go to bed."

Mindy's mouth turned into a cute little pout, but she sighed and nodded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over that, I guess. But it's weird, right? I mean, why is he wearing your shirts?"

Josh shrugged. "I dunno. But it's really not a big deal."

"Josh, Drake shouldn't get away with things like that. I just hate how he just tries to stroll through life as if nothing he ever does affects anyone."

"I know. He can be frustrating. But I love him. He's my brother. Besides, maybe I should be flattered. Drake's always been the 'cool' one...the fact that he's wearing my clothes must mean some of that 'cool's been rubbed off on me," Josh said with a smile, putting his hands on Mindy's hips.

Mindy smiled her special 'Josh Smile.' "Or maybe you were the cool one all along, and he's just now picking up on it."

"Aww...that's sweet," Josh breathed before kissing her softly.

They kissed slowly for a moment, before Mindy pulled away. "Okay, then. I should probably go. So Drake can get his precious 'Fudgie Boos,' and you can get some sleep," she said as she ran her small hands through his hair.

Josh smiled. "I'll have to make _you_ Fudgie Boos some day."

"I think I'd like that."

"I think you would too."

They kissed again, and after a moment, Mindy forcefully pried herself out of Josh's embrace. "Yeah...I'm gonna go. Really, this time."

Josh grinned. "Okay, I'll walk you to the door."

As Josh said one last goodbye to Mindy, Drake left the hallway and crept quietly up the stairs, thinking he'd heard enough nerd-kissing to make him deaf for all of eternity, and feeling utterly humiliated about wearing his brother's shirts. He still didn't understand the problem, but he didn't want to be thought of as a freak, so he decided to never wear one of Josh's soft, good-smelling shirts ever again.  


***

It had been weeks. Three long, frustrating, aggravating, infuriating weeks.

Maybe those words all meant the same thing, but Drake was too upset to really care about his vocabulary skills at the moment. Not that he ever really cared, but what did that matter?

He had been yelled at by Mrs. Hayfer. _Again_. More lousy grades. He spent most of his lunch period trying to calm his girlfriend of the week, Gina, who was having some kind of breakdown he didn't have any idea how to deal with, and because of that, he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

And to top it all off, he hadn't worn one article of clothing belonging to his brother in three weeks, and it was driving him insane. The frustrating part was that he couldn't figure out why. Just _why_ he wanted to wear one of Josh's shirts so badly. It wasn't like Josh had the greatest sense of style. In fact, it was just plain. Boring.

At least he didn't wear sweater vests like Eric. Or Craig. One of those nerds, Drake thought dismissively.

After spending the afternoon driving around San Diego without a destination in mind, Drake pulled into his driveway just as the sun was beginning to set, still no closer to feeling any better about his day. It was never like this. He was Drake Parker, and Drake Parker never had a problem just letting things go, just going with the flow of life around him, but this time, he just couldn't shake his bad mood. It was like when Josh had said he was done with him. It felt like that, that twisting, gnawing in his chest. It was starting to hurt.

Drake went upstairs to his room, flinging his backpack down on the floor near the coffee table before going over to the fridge for a Mocha Cola. He had just sat down on the couch to drown himself in mindless, celebrity reality-TV when Josh came bursting through the door.

"Drake! Why didn't you wait for me? Didn't you see me standing outside the school? I even chased you out of the school parking lot! I needed you to take me to the Premiere, and I wound up getting a ride from Eric!" he exclaimed, throwing his bag on his bed.

Drake shrugged, not looking at his brother. "Sorry, man. Needed to get home."

"What? You needed to get home? Why? To do what?"

Drake gestured at the television with the remote. "Watch TV."

"Watch TV," Josh repeated flatly, staring at his brother with incredulity. Suddenly, he was animated again. "Drake! What is your problem? You've been a jerk for days now! I mean, you didn't even eat those Fudgie Boos I made you, so I had to let the family eat them. I made them especially _for you_."

Drake shrugged again. "I decided I didn't want them."

"You...you _what_? You asked, no, _begged_ me to make you those Fudgie Boos, and then you just decided you didn't want them?" When Drake was silent, Josh took a calming breath and said softly, "Drake, will you please just tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Josh."

Josh sat down next to his brother. "Drake, you think you're this great liar, but I _know you_. I know when something is bothering you. Did I...did I do something to piss you off? If so, just tell me what it is, so I can fix it."

Drake took a swig of his Mocha Cola. "There's nothing to fix, Josh."

"Don't tell me there's nothing to fix! I know something's wrong and if you don't tell me I can't fix it, Drake!"

Drake finally turned, getting in his brother's face. "There's nothing to fix, Josh! Everyone's made it abundantly clear that the one that's messed up is _me_ and _you_ can't fix that!" Each word was punctuated with an angry gesture of Drake's hands.

Josh stopped. "Wait, what? You? What are you talking about?"

Drake deflated, sitting back in his seat. "Nothing. Nevermind, don't worry about it."

"Drake..."

Drake stood abruptly, grabbing a towel and some pajamas. "No, just drop it, Joshie. I've just had a bad day, okay? I'm gonna go take a shower." With that, Drake left their room, closing the door rather loudly.

Josh just sat there, a bit stunned.  


***

When Drake got back from his shower, their bedroom was empty and dark. There was only one light on, the lamp on Josh's desk. It cast haunting shadows on his bed, and Drake wondered where his brother had gone.

Throwing his wet towel and dirty clothes in the corner, he grabbed a new can of Mocha Cola and climbed up to his bed. Grabbing his guitar, he went to sit down to work on some tunes he had been struggling with but stopped as something light against his dark bedspread caught his eye.

Setting down the can of Mocha Cola on his makeshift nightstand, he turned on his lamp and looked down at the neatly folded blue button-down shirt on his bed.

Looking around his empty room, he saw that there were no other articles of clothing on his bed, his comforter was spread haphazardly over his sheets as normal, his pillow was still askew, and against the brown fabric, there was a clean, crisp shirt he recognized as one of Josh's work-shirts.

But what would that be doing on his bed?

Checking around the empty room again, he leaned his guitar against the mattress and knelt down, reaching out slowly to the shirt, as if any sudden movements might be cause for an attack of some kind. When his finger tips brushed the soft fabric, he started, then seized the shirt in his hands, clutching it close.

Darting yet another look around, he put the shirt back down on the bed, pulled quickly on the hem of his sleep shirt, tugging it over his head, and threw it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. He took Josh's shirt back up in his hands and tried slipping it over his shoulders. It wouldn't quite fit, and Drake thought frantically, _what if someone walks in?_ but he took the shirt back off, worked the buttons furiously, and slipped the fabric up his arms and over his shoulders, almost wrapping the shirt around him like a robe.

Realizing that someone really could walk in at any moment, Drake dove into his bed, reaching up to turn off the light and set his guitar against the wall on the other side of the bed. He burrowed down beneath the covers and turned onto his side, away from the door.

Hands shaking, he buttoned the shirt back up, starting from the bottom, and when he got to the top, he left one button open, pressing the fabric down against his skin, and then flushed with hidden shame over the absolute mess he had become over something as dumb as a shirt.

He sat up to take the shirt off when he heard someone just outside the door, and flung himself back under the covers, feigning sleep. He heard Josh come in, something on his brother's lips, and held his breath as Josh realized that Drake was "asleep" and quietly left the room.

Drake listened hard, and could almost hear Josh telling his mom that Drake went to bed early, and wouldn't be having dinner.

At the thought of dinner, Drake's stomach growled, and he regretted pretending to be asleep, and wished he'd never put on Josh's shirt. He should be downstairs eating instead of up here acting all girly over a damn shirt that belonged to his brother.

Sighing, he rolled onto his back. Maybe there was a Megathon Bar in his bag.  


***

The next morning, Drake slunk out of his bed while Josh was still sleeping. Quickly, he unbuttoned Josh's shirt (which was now wrinkled and had small chocolate smudges on it) and folded it as carefully as he knew how. He changed into his clothes for the day, feeling colder than the low temperature of the room should have allowed.

Picking up the blue shirt, he went over to Josh's hamper and quickly placed it inside, careful not to wake his brother.

Then his stomach growled. Loudly.

As Josh shifted in his sleep, Drake shot up, dashing around Josh's bed and out of the room as quickly as possible. As soon as he was in the kitchen, he allowed himself to breathe.

_That was close._

Drake was finishing his cereal when Josh wandered downstairs. Would he say anything? Drake spooned another mouthful of cereal in his mouth under the pretense that his mouth was too full to talk.

"Hey, bro," Josh said, going to the fridge.

Drake relaxed minutely. "Hey," he said through a mouthful of Fruit & Frosted.

"Drake, you shouldn't talk with your mouth full," Josh chastised.

The tension in Drake's shoulders ebbed and he swallowed. "Well, I'm done anyway." He stood, leaving his dirty bowl on the table.

"Dude!" Josh called. "Put your dirty dishes in the sink!"

Drake turned around and smiled. Nothing had changed.

"Can't, man," he said, grinning. "Got pretty girls that need kissing."

Josh rolled his eyes over his glass of juice. "And you can't take two seconds to put your bowl in the sink four feet away?"

Drake backed out of the kitchen. "Fate of the free world rests on my lips, man. Fate of the free world."

"You are so full of yourself," Josh muttered, but it was teasing.

Drake just flashed his brother another grin and headed up the stairs to brush his teeth and grab his backpack.  


***

That night, Drake came upstairs from watching TV with Megan to get ready for bed. Josh was sitting at his desk, working on homework, and muttered a 'hey' when Drake greeted him.

Pulling off his shirt, he rooted around in his dresser for some pajama pants and a shirt, and not finding any, went up to his bed to retrieve the ones from last night. Sitting on his bed, however, was another neatly folded t-shirt of Josh's...almost as if it were waiting for him.

He looked down to his brother, who was scribbling some complicated math equation in a notebook.

"Hey, Josh?"

Josh glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

Drake looked at that innocent face and blinked. "Um...nevermind," he said dismissively, waving a hand. "Sorry to bother you."

Josh shrugged. "No big deal," he said, as if he hadn't a clue that there was one of his shirts on Drake's bed.

Continuously looking over his shoulder, Drake changed into his pajama bottoms, watching to see if Josh was looking at him, but he was studiously scribbling and mumbling equations under his breath. Drake picked up Josh's shirt and shook it out. Biting his lip, he made his decision and turned the shirt around and pulled it over his head, followed quickly by his own long-sleeved sleep shirt.

"Hey, I'm gonna go to bed," Drake told Josh.

Josh didn't look up from his studying. "Okay. I'll be done here in a minute."

Drake got under his covers and smiled as he settled down, rolling over to face the wall. On a whim, he pulled both of his shirts over his nose and breathed in, thinking he could probably smell Josh, but couldn't, and it was a silly thought anyway he decided.  


***

Drake was happy. Drake liked being happy. Everyone thought that Drake just didn't care about anything, which is why he was so blasé, however, the truth was that he did care (at least, most of the time). But he would rather be happy than be a worry-wort like Josh, so he did things that made him happy, and oh well if it bothered anyone else.

Like wearing Josh's shirts to bed for example. He knew that Mindy would go into some kind of frothing rage if she ever found out, probably using a ton of words he would never remember, let alone understand, but it made him feel good, so he'd do it regardless of Mindy's objections.

Besides, it was Josh who was leaving them out for him to wear every night, so it wasn't like it was Drake's fault. Josh obviously _wanted_ Drake to wear his shirts.

It had been almost a week since the shirts started showing up on his bed, without comment. Drake never again tried to ask Josh why he was suddenly giving Drake his shirts, but there seemed to be no objection to him wearing them, so Drake just let it be.

That particular night, Drake wasn't really ready to go to bed, but he'd already changed into Josh's shirt, and Josh was still awake, doing his homework. Throwing caution to the wind, Drake got out of bed and climbed down the ladder, making for his guitar. He settled onto the one of the armchairs, stretching out into it like a cat. He faced Josh at his desk, and watched him through hooded eyelids as he idly strummed the guitar lying on his belly.

Josh hadn't looked up once, but Drake could tell that he could feel his brother's stare. His eyes stopped moving across the page of the book he was reading, and he suddenly started fidgeting with his hair, pushing it out of his eyes then tucking it behind his ears when it fell in his eyes, before running his fingers through it and ruining it all over again. His foot started shaking, like a nervous wobble that made his whole chair shake with its movement.

Drake started singing under his breath, some song he was working on, more syllables than actual words, when Josh finally sat up, putting his book down before looking over at Drake.

"Why are you staring at me?"

Drake looked to his fingering at A minor. "Me? I'm not staring at you."

"I could tell that you were though. I could feel it," Josh insisted.

Drake shrugged. "Does it bother you?"

Josh paused for a second at the question. "Well...it's rather hard to concentrate when you know someone is looking at you."

"Really? I never have that problem."

Josh rolled his eyes. "That's because you drop whatever it is you're doing to bask in the attention. Or you're the one giving it. Either way, you're like an attention whore."

"I'm not a whore!" Drake said automatically, snapping his eyes over to look at Josh, who had a smile on his face. Drake set his guitar aside and sat up straight.

"Those sound like fighting words," Josh challenged.

"Bring it," Drake said, and they both pounced.

The great thing about their physical fighting is that it was violent, and took a lot of energy, but the most pain that ever came from it was the sting of a few dozen slaps to Drake's ass, as well as the sting of where Drake's hands met Josh. Why they slapped instead of punched was anyone's guess. Drake was just happy to expend some energy and not mess up his face in the process.

Besides, Josh would have fought like a girl in a real tussle anyhow.

They had been going at the slapping and pushing and grabbing for a few minutes when Drake lost his footing and took Josh down with him. They rolled around, bumping into the coffee table and the couch before Drake could try and make a break for it, but Josh grabbed a hold of his shirt, and Drake yelled out without thinking,

"Hey! Let go! You'll stretch out my shirt!"

Josh abruptly let go, and Drake fell on his ass, landing with an 'oof!' Josh was looking up from the floor with wide eyes and his mouth parted slightly, as if reality had just slapped him in the face.

"You mean _my_ shirt, don't you, Drake?" Josh said, his voice slightly hollow.

Drake swallowed. "I, uh...yeah, I guess so."

Josh stood. "I...can't pretend to understand why, Drake, but it's okay, you know. You don't have to be embarrassed about it."

"About what?"

"About whatever reason you have for liking to wear my shirts. I'm giving them to you because I want to."

Drake didn't meet Josh's eyes. He was ruining everything. Josh wasn't supposed to _say_ anything about it, because now it wasn't just this little secret, now they had to _talk_ about it, and Drake didn't _want_ to talk about it. He didn't know what to say.

After a moment of Drake's silence, Josh said, "You don't have to tell me, either. Really."

"Well, I don't have anything to say."

"Then don't say anything."

"Okay, I won't."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Okay. Now that the moment had officially turned awkward...

"I'm gonna go to bed," Drake said, standing and climbing up to his bed.

"Goodnight," Josh said.

"Goodnight," Drake said absently, deciding hiding in his covers until the awkward went away was the best option for the night.

As he listened to Josh get ready for bed and turn in for the night, Drake tried to pretend that the smell of sweat and the way fighting with Josh had started to feel the kind of good that usually only girls made him feel wasn't why everything was now awkward. It was just because Josh said something about it  that was all.

Even Drake knew that that was the most unbelievable lie he had ever told, even if it was just to himself.  


***

The next day was weird. Weird for Drake, at least, though looking at Josh, you'd never be able to tell that something was off. Assuming anything _was_ off, which Drake had been trying to convince himself all day that there wasn't.

Except that Josh was standing there, talking to Craig and Eric with his arm around Mindy as if there wasn't some big, terrible secret bubbling under the surface.

Drake just wanted to go up to Mindy Crenshaw and say, right in front of everybody, "That's right, Creature! You might not like it, but _your_ boyfriend has been _giving me_ his shirts to wear! To bed! How do you feel about _that_?"

But, of course, he'd never do any such thing, because a) if he did, then everyone else would know about his...whatever it was, and b) it'd upset Josh, who obviously didn't want anyone but them to know about it.

So things would stay weird.

By that evening, after a date that ended with a fantastic make-out session that had him blissfully distracted for about five minutes, Drake decided he wasn't going to wear Josh's shirts anymore. Yes, he remembered where that had gotten him last time, but things were just too weird; _Drake_ was apparently too weird, and Drake didn't want to be weird, because Drake Parker wasn't weird. Drake Parker was _cool_. Cool and sexy and a good kisser. Those were the things that defined Drake Parker, beyond his musical talent. Not weird. Weird did _not_ fit into the Drake Parker Equation, which was the only equation Drake knew how to solve with any certainty.

But as he was about to get into bed, there it was, another one of Josh's shirts  a work shirt again this time  and Drake stared at it for five minutes before calmly putting it on the floor next to his mattress and climbing under the covers. It was late, but it was a Friday night, and Josh always worked the really late shift on Fridays, not getting home until after 1am, yet he still managed to come home at some point during the day and lay out a shirt for Drake. He wasn't going to be home for about a half hour.

Drake rolled over and looked at the soft glow the moon outside was making on the light blue of the shirt sitting on the floor.

Maybe just one last time, Drake thought.

Pushing back the comforter, Drake sat up and pulled his own t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside. He was suddenly cold, but quickly undid the buttons and slid the cool fabric over his skin, buttoning the shirt back up. He smoothed it down with his hands, feeling it warm against his chest. It smelled really good, like Josh, Drake decided. Not at all like that horrible citrus scented detergent their mom used, but soft and musky, like that lavender bath salts Josh liked. Girly, but nice.

 _Really_ nice. Man, it was getting hot in here, Drake thought. Too hot. Drake didn't want to take off the long-sleeved top, though, so he decided to kick off his pajamas, pushing them down to the end of his bed with his feet.

He lied there for a few minutes, in just the shirt, having earlier discarded his tight-pant briefs he wore that day, thinking back on something Mindy had said.

Drake wasn't Josh's girlfriend, and no one should be wearing Josh's shirts except Josh.

And Mindy.

Drake was sure he knew what Mindy meant. It's not that he hadn't fantasized about it himself; a pretty girl, wearing only his shirt, a small hint of skin hiding in the shadows, thighs bare and milky, breasts straining some of the buttons...

But Drake wasn't Josh's girlfriend, and more importantly, Drake wasn't a girl. But _he_ was wearing only Josh's shirt, not Mindy. He was wearing only this shirt that smelled so wonderful, and was so warm and slightly too large and hung down to his...

Drake pulled the shirt down by the hem, feeling the smooth fabric slide against his wakening erection, and it felt far better than it really should have. He cupped the shirt over his dick, rubbing it slightly, feeling himself get harder. It was weird. Not the bad kind of weird that Drake didn't want to be associated with, but the kind of weird that makes you think you might be losing your mind because _you just can't stop_.

A little whimper left his lips as he arched into his own touch - no, Josh's touch. It was Josh's shirt after all, and it was easier to blame Josh in all of this; this, whatever this was. Josh was the supplier of such wonderful smelling shirts, so it must be Josh's fault. Some hidden agenda that made his shirts so soft, and smell so good, and he was rubbing harder now, almost chaffing a little, feeling so dirty for using Josh like this, but so good because, really, his brother could be home at any minute, and that was just _dangerous_ , and sexually, Drake realized he liked a little bit of danger.

It was getting much too hot again, so Drake kicked off his covers, lying bare to the world, and looking down saw the soft blue glow of the shirt blanketing him, and the shiny glisten of precome on the head of his cock, which was now jutting out from the part in the fabric. Oh, he was _so hard_ , and had no idea a shirt could make him feel so horny. The sleeves of the shirt came down past his knuckles and the added friction against his palm as he took a hold of himself and started jerking off in earnest only heightened the sensation.

He was lost in himself, in throwing his head back, but then turning his nose into the collar so he could smell Josh, in the rough job he was giving his dick, to having to reach down and play with his balls, so lost that he never noticed he had an audience until he heard the stifled gasp and the clink of something metal as it hit the floor.

Drake froze, looking over to Josh, who was standing at the foot of his own bed, his work pants around his ankles and one hand near his crotch, a look of amazement on his face. Or shock. Or fear. Drake really wasn't sure what were his emotions and what were Josh's, all he knew was that he was suddenly feeling very exposed, and made a girly 'eep' sound and grabbed at his comforter, jerking it up over his whole body, trying to hide from the pain and embarrassment, and hell, the _world_ , because he didn't ever want to face anyone or anything again, he was more mortified than he had ever been in his life.

"Drake! Wait!" he heard as the covers descended over his head. He heard Josh stumble, curse, the sound of shoes falling to the floor and his brother clambering up the ladder, and he clutched the comforter around himself tightly, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Drake! Drake!" Josh was calling, and Drake felt the weight of Josh climbing onto Drake's bed, his knees on either side of Drake's curled up form.

"Come on, Drake," Josh said, pulling at the covers, which Drake only held on more tightly to. "It's okay, man, really. I mean...I understand. You can look at me. Drake!" Josh tried one last time, pulling at the covers to no avail. Drake felt him sit back, which was kind of on Drake's feet, but Drake didn't dare move his feet, for fear of attracting attention. Or making Josh move.

"Drake?" Josh called softly after a heaving sigh. "Do you want to know why I let you wear my shirts?" he barely waited a minute before answering, "It wasn't just because I knew you liked to. I _wanted_ you too. Didn't you ever notice?"

The pause was much longer this time, and Drake heard himself mumble, "Ever notice what?"

"That whatever shirt I gave you to wear to bed, I'd be wearing the next day?"

Drake unclenched his hands from his comforter, and opened his eyes. _What?_ He pushed down the comforter slowly, peeking only his eyes out to look at Josh, who was sitting back on his haunches in only a blue work shirt and his boxers, looking at Drake with very wide eyes. The white-blue glow of the shirt made Josh's skin look incredibly dark, and his eyes too, which were open and not at all horrified as Drake had imagined them being.

"What?" Drake said out loud.

"The shirts I left for you on the bed...I'd wear them the next day. To school. Or work. Chocolate stains and all."

Josh's mouth quirked up in the corner at this, and Drake relaxed some, letting the comforter reveal the rest of his face.

"No, I didn't notice," said Drake. After a pause he asked, "Why? I mean...why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted them to smell like you," Josh answered softly, looking down.

No, not just looking down, looking _nervous_.

Drake swallowed, sitting up. "You...wanted them to smell like me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Even in the dim light, Drake could see Josh blush. "Well...because you smell good."

"I smell good?" Drake asked. Josh nodded.

Drake sat there for a minute, searching for the right words, but Josh beat him to it. "I'm not freaked out, by the way," he said, making Drake look at him.

"You're not?"

Josh shook his head. "No. Not about.... I was thinking, I mean, I didn't want you to stop."

"What?" Drake said, looking at Josh with startled eyes.

"I didn't - I didn't want you to stop. It was...hot."

"It - it was?"

Josh nodded. "Yeah. Really hot," he added.

Drake sat there, looking at his brother, and something was bothering him.

"Josh, why aren't you wearing any pants?"

Josh smiled nervously, tugging on the hem of his work-shirt. "I was...about to jerk off. Watching you."

Drake blinked. _What?_ "You were?" His mouth was dry.

"Yeah. But I guess I got caught."

Drake bit his lip. "Joshie...do you...want to, still?"

"Want to what?"

 _Oh, please don't make me say it..._ "To...get off. I mean, I'm saying, if it's not too weird, or anything." _Please let it not be weird._

"N-no...it's not too weird. I mean, if you're saying what I think you're saying."

Drake was tired of thinking. He was practically blue-balled from not getting off before, and it was starting to get uncomfortable, though he wasn't really hard anymore. Well, now he was getting there, thinking about Josh thinking he was hot, jerking off in his own shirt...

Drake pushed the covers down just enough to climb out from under them, then crawled down to Josh, who was now sitting cross-legged. He got into Josh's personal space, making Josh pull back a little in confusion, his arms going out to his sides. Drake climbed onto Josh's lap and pulled his face close with both hands, pressing his lips to his brother's.

Josh sucked in a breath against Drake's lips, but then kissed him, putting his hands on Drake's back, just below the shoulder blades. Drake adjusted his seating, so he was as close to Josh as possible; his ass nestled perfectly between Josh's bare knees.

The kiss broke with a heaving breath and they looked at each other in the moonlight, so many questions and uncertainties in their eyes, but then Josh smiled ever so slightly, and Drake followed, pressing his lips again and again and again to Josh's. It became fevered, sloppy, open-mouthed, and when Drake's hands went up into Josh's hair, Josh's hands wandered down, smoothing his shirt against Drake's back.

Drake wiggled around in his brother's lap, feeling Josh's interest against his balls, separated by a bare scrap of fabric. Realizing his brother might be interested and feeling it were two entirely different things, and Drake felt himself grow harder against the similar shirt covering Josh's torso.

Drake gave Josh one last pulling kiss, sucking Josh's pouty lower lip into his mouth before breaking contact and heaving his weight backwards, pulling Josh back with him. It was slightly awkward, because Josh wasn't expecting it, and had to adjust his trajectory so that he landed with his face near Drake's shoulder instead of his armpit, but they chuckled, and it was awkward, but still okay.

Drake could definitely feel how hot it was getting in the room, on his bed, between him and Josh. When they shifted, his cock and balls were left exposed, and the cool air of the room was like a shock to his senses, and he gasped a little. Josh was kneeling between his legs, holding himself up with an arm as he continued to place kisses on Drake's neck and face. His other hand was cupping his jaw, trailing down to Drake's open collar, stroking the skin just under the dip in his clavicle. Drake felt completely exposed lying under Josh, his legs spread open. It wasn't a natural position for him, and he was starting to feel weird again.

Josh seemed to pick up on his sudden stillness, and pulled away.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice a little husky, like sex. "Do you want to stop?"

Drake shook his head. "No. Just feeling.... You're wearing too many clothes."

Josh smiled and sat back, starting to undo his work-shirt buttons.

"No!" Drake protested, sitting up. "No, leave the shirt on. Boxers, off." There. He was in more control. That felt better.

Josh started to look nervous, but Drake just smiled and kissed him reassuringly on the lips, getting on his knees and pushing Josh back on his haunches again. He slid his hands from Josh's neck to his waistband, sneaking his fingers under the elastic. Josh seemed to get the hint, and pulled at his boxers, leaning into Drake as he tried to get them past his knees. Drake chuckled and pulled Josh to him in a hug, twisting their bodies so that Josh was now underneath him. He assisted Josh, pulling his boxers the rest of the way off, and then got a good look at his brother - no, _step_ brother, as it was very important to make that distinction Drake realized - and what he saw nearly undid him right there.

Josh was laying back, his hair black and sleek against Drake's pillow, and his eyes were shadowed too, but bright, shining in the moonlight. His skin looked pale and dark at the same time; pale in the light, but dark compared to the glow of his shirt. Then Drake caught sight of the dark shadow below the shirt, a dark thatch of hair and jutting proudly from that, Josh's cock, which Drake now realized he had never known how to appreciate before, as he had only really looked at his own.

He would never make that mistake again.

"Oh, God," he whispered, and he saw Josh start to close in on himself.

"I'm not..." Josh started, but Drake could hear the words unspoken. _Good-looking_.

"No, no, no, no, no, Joshie," Drake said, leaning forward, to cup Josh's face in his hand. "You're...unbelievable," he finished, in awed tones.

"R-really?"

Drake nodded. He wasn't really good with words, though, so he left it at that, and began kissing Josh, straddling his legs over his brother's hips.

Josh's hands came up to grip Drake's hipbones, his thumbs digging into the dip his hips made, his fingers flexing into the flesh that led to Drake's ass. He pulled Drake to him, and the contact of skin caused them both to gasp, and twin moans to escape their throats. Drake started rubbing himself against his brother, not really sure of what else to do, because he had never done this before, and he was pretty sure Josh hadn't ever done anything close to this before either. Even with Mindy. But Drake didn't want to think about her, so he didn't.

Josh had his hands on Drake's ass now, pulling him into himself, trying to get the friction going between them, with both their shirts still on. Drake had stopped kissing Josh and was merely panting in Josh's ear, gasping and making little noises he wasn't aware he knew how to make, but it felt so good, his cock rubbing against Josh's, both of them trapped between the work shirts, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't working.

Drake sat back and still rocking, took Josh's dick in his hand, and started jerking him off in tandem with the rocking. Josh arched under him and gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head a little. He took the hint, however, and grabbed onto Drake, which Drake thought was the most wonderful thing his stepbrother had ever done for him, and he threw his head back, gasping.

Josh's other hand twisted in the front of Drake's shirt, and was pulling at it, pushing it up, trying to feel more skin. Drake tried to help him, tried to pull the shirt off, but he just couldn't do it with one hand, and the buttons weren't coming undone, and then Josh yanked really hard, and a few buttons popped off, the shirt left open, and Josh's free hand was all over the place, touching Drake's belly and nipples and circling around to smooth over his back.

He was so close. "Joshie," Drake whimpered, and felt his balls draw up, and then it happened, he was coming, all over himself and Josh's shirts, and Josh's hand and everything was just JoshJoshJoshJosh _Joshie_.

His grip on Josh faltered for a second, but then Josh sat up suddenly, pulling Drake's head forward to kiss him, hard, and then Drake felt Josh come in his hand, warmth spreading between them, and Josh broke the kiss and cried out, his grip on Drake's neck becoming almost painful.

They sat like that for a moment, before Josh collapsed back onto the bed, taking Drake with him. They bounced a little and Josh chuckled, shifting his hand from Drake's neck into Drake's hair.

"We're all sticky," Drake commented, content just to breathe in the skin of Josh's sweat-drenched neck.

"Well, these shirts will need to be washed anyway," Josh replied, pulling his hand out from between them and then wiping it absently on Drake's shirt-covered back.

"That wasn't...weird, was it? What just happened?" Drake asked, honestly worried.

Josh's arms shifted into a hug. "Everyone else might think so, but I don't," Josh said. "I think...I think it explains a lot."

"Yeah?" Drake said, relieved. He didn't want to be _weird_.

"Yeah. I'll explain it to you sometime."

"It pays to have a really smart brother," Drake murmured, sleepy, and he felt, more than heard, Josh's rumbling chuckle.

" _Step_ brother. It's important to make that distinction, now, I think," Josh reminded him.

"That's just what I was thinking," Drake said. "Hey, Joshie?"

"Yeah, Drake?"

"Could you get the blanket? I'm cold."

"Sure." Josh shifted around underneath Drake, using his feet to maneuver the comforter up so he could grab onto it and pull it over both of them.

"And Joshie?"

"Yes, Drake?"

"Will you make me Fudgie Boos tomorrow? I never got to eat mine."

Josh laughed, and it made Drake smile. "Yes. I will make you Fudgie Boos."

"My own batch."

"Your own batch."

"Nobody else gets to have any."

"Nope, no one."

No, there was nothing weird about Drake Parker. Everyone else was just jealous.

 

_Epilogue_

It had been a week since he and Drake had realized that there was just something beyond brotherhood between them. They didn't have any idea of the future, or even what their parents would say, but Josh was doing - or trying to do - a very un-Josh thing, which was not worrying about it just now.

He had broken up with Mindy, _again_ , and used a pitiful, but truthful explanation, which seemed to work at keeping Mindy angry enough at him that she steered clear of him at all times, which was exactly what Josh wanted. He hadn't wanted to hurt Mindy, he did still care about her, but he couldn't be with her anymore after being with Drake, and he sure as hell couldn't explain to her about _that_. She would never understand. And it wasn't fair to anyone to lead her on.

He returned home from a long day at the Premiere, in which Helen had yelled at him for every little thing, and Gavin had skipped out on half of his shift to go sleep on the roof again, leaving Josh to cover for him, so he hadn't gotten a break at all. Helen had also made him stay late, and Josh now had a sneaky suspicion that Mindy had talked to Helen, and was extracting revenge through making work hell for him. Not that it wasn't usually hell for him on some level, but now it was downright unbearable.

So when he walked into his room late that night, he was planning on just collapsing on his bed, clothes and all, content on passing out.

What he was _not_ expecting was for Drake to be up, waiting for him, in nothing but the ruined work shirt with only two of the buttons still on, kneeling at the top of the ladder ready and hard and unbelievably hot, his cock jutting out from beneath the shirt, just begging to be sucked on.

Josh's bag fell out of his hand as he took the sight of Drake in, and the hooded smile Drake was giving him was enough to make even his tired self stand up at attention.

Swallowing, he realized the door was still open behind him, so he made a strangled noise and whipped around to close it, locking it firmly shut, using the extra bolts and chains they had added in the last few days. Swinging his head back around, he had to wipe a little drool from the corner of his mouth when Drake lifted up a long-fingered hand and crooked his finger at him.

Josh went blindly, tripping over his bag, which Drake chuckled at, but even the flush of embarrassment couldn't stop Josh from his goal, which was almost like a lighthouse, guiding him home.

Josh meant to climb up the ladder into Drake's arms, but Drake pushed him down by the shoulders before cupping the back of his head and guiding his mouth to the cock glistening with what Josh was now hoping was cherry-flavored lube.

Smiling with a predatory knowledge he hadn't possessed before, Josh took Drake into his mouth, moaning as the smell of Drake hit his nostrils and taste of cherry flooded his tongue. One hand was on the ladder, wrapped around it surely, and the other took a hold of Drake at the base, his own mouth wide and deep over Drake's cock.

Drake moaned and leaned back, one of his hands tangling in Josh's hair and the other gripping the ladder just above Josh's. "Oh, Joshie..." he breathed, and Josh was reinvigorated, sucking and sliding and licking for all he was worth. When Drake called Josh "Joshie" it always undid him, even if it was a heartbreaking call of absolute desolation, it didn't matter. Drake always undid him.

Drake grunted once, twice, and then was coming down Josh's throat, and Josh held on, proud at himself for not wincing when Drake's grip in his hair became painful. As Drake came down off of his orgasmic high, Josh climbed up the ladder and tackled his stepbrother, scooping him up and onto the bed. Drake laughed and wrapped his arms around Josh's neck.

"How was work?" Drake asked, kissing Josh on the mouth, quickly swiping his tongue over Josh's lips to taste cherry-flavored come.

"Absolutely horrible," Josh groaned, his face burrowing down next to Drake's neck. "Helen has it out for me, I swear."

"I wonder why she doesn't like you so much. She loves me."

"Yeah. I know, don't remind me."

"Do you think she'd still love me if she knew I was fucking you?"

Josh laughed. "I doubt it. But you know, I have a feeling Mindy told her about our breakup, so she's extracting some kind of 'girls unite' revenge on me or something."

"Possibly."

Josh lifted his head. "I'm really exhausted. Is it alright if I just lie here while we have sex? Or you give me blow job? Or something? Because I really need to get off, but I don't think I have the energy to actually _do_ anything at the moment."

Drake grinned and kissed Josh deeply for many long moments. Finally breaking away he said, his brown eyes twinkling, "I'll fuck you, as long as we both wear the shirts, and nothing else."

Josh's wicked smile came back. "Deal. Shirt stealer," he admonished, running a hand along the shirt which was now inherently Drake's forevermore.

"I think the proper term is 'shirt lifter'," Drake said, smile bright, like he knew he said something smart.

"And you'd be correct, in this context," Josh said, kissing Drake as they shifted around so that Josh was on his back. "In many contexts, actually."

"See? It pays to have a smart brother."

" _Step_ brother."

"Because that distinction is very important," Drake said, nodding knowingly as he moved down Josh's body.

"Very," Josh mumbled, his mind becoming numb as Drake did things to him that made him forget his name.

"Joshie..." Drake whispered at one point.

Oh, that's right. Joshie. But it was gone again in a second as Drake extracted the most amazing orgasm he'd ever had, and Josh knew then with all certainty that nothing involving Drake and Josh could ever be misconstrued as weird ever again.  


  


  


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Thank you so much for reading!  



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